


Of Avarice and Despair

by bethskarsgard



Category: AHS - Fandom, AHS Apocalypse, American Horror Story, Michael Langdon - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Antichrist Michael, Character Death, Character Rebirth, Choking, Degradation, Don't Read if Any of Them Might Trigger You, F/M, Master/Slave, Post-Apocalypse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Read at your own discretion, Referenced Oral Sex Male Receiving, Referenced past abuse, Sex, Vaginal Sex, dark themes, dub/con, fingering Female Receiving, mean!michael, no happily ever after, please read the warnings, takes place in hell, unhealthy relationship dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 10:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21014291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethskarsgard/pseuds/bethskarsgard
Summary: She's a gift from Satan to his only Son; this is a tale of innocence corrupted.





	Of Avarice and Despair

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr (@micheallangdons). I have re-written and edited this version, though the story is basically unchanged.

_Speak to me a tale of avarice and despair, _

_ shunned by grace, crushed under my boot;_

_Taste my corruption, choke it down, _

_ feel me pulse in your veins;_

_You belong to me, _

_ you belong to me._

– mine; (2019)

In all his dreams it was only ever her, the embodiment of his every desire carved into flesh and bone. From infernal flame she was delivered, unblemished and pure, his and his alone to do with as he pleased.

She was flawless, the perfect symmetry of silken skin and soft curves. Her mind and body yielded to his commands without protest no matter how many times he broke her. He could never satiate his need to repeat the process over and over again, her soft whimpers of pleasure and pain drove him to inflict endless hours of depraved acts against her.

He constructed elaborate training sessions purely for his own amusement, though a simple game of hide and seek would fulfill he needs as surely as any other activity. He would chase her across the barren landscape of the underworld, delighting in the outcome that was always the same.

An irresistible combination, her loosened bonds, the barred door standing ajar, his intent study of the work strewn across his desk. Not a thing of less importance to him than her huddled form on the far side of the room. A clever ruse, and as predicted she bolted through the opening to seek refuge.

Hell’s forsaken lands awaited her beyond the gates of the tower. The scorched earth littered with rocks and boulders were deceptive, promising endless places for her to hide, but she would only find her inevitable punishment, despite her best efforts to elude capture. There was no corner of Hell that would ever offer her safety, this was his domain and he would ferret her out like the predator he was. 

Her thick and heady scent laced the air in her wake, tasting of sweet saccharine on his tongue as he breathed her in. She had found a small cave, in reality no more than a crevice that she had crawled into, where she trembled at the sound of his approach. A putrid mist of sulfur and ash billowed around him as he closed in on her, his very steps reverberating through the ground beneath his feet. Even the bloodstained sky was brought to a great thunder at the passage of Satan’s son.

She waited with a hand clamped over her mouth until the last possible moment, leaping forth like a gazelle attempting to skirt the jaws of death. She was so breathtaking in flight that for the briefest of moments his heart of stone swelled with admiration.

He caught her in an instant, tackling her to the ground and crushing her beneath his weight. She didn’t struggle, opting for surrender as he clutched her throat with one hand. The other he buried in the apex of her thighs, finding there the evidence of her body’s betrayal in the slick coating his fingers. He probed her heat and tightened the hand squeezing her windpipe. Her oxygen deprived brain would soon lose consciousness even as she burned with her need for him.

He worked her cunt with two fingers, curling his knuckles and grinning wickedly at the obscene squelching sounds. Then a third, stretching her, preparing her tight walls to take him. She was close, so close to her first orgasm, and he forgave her inability to seek his permission, choosing instead to urge her on with words of encouragement. A gush of her essence flowed from deep within her soon after, her walls clenching around his fingers as her back bowed and her thighs shook. His lips crashed against hers, taking her final breath into his lungs before roughly impaling her on his cock.

Her lips were stained blue, eyes staring at nothing, unblinking and glassy as he rolled his hips forward. The faintest of contractions around him sparked an electric current that traveled from the tip of his cock to the base of his spine, setting his nerve ending ablaze. A single tear rolled down her cheek as death pulled her under and he captured it on his tongue, savoring the bitter taste. He released her throat and lifted her beneath the knee of one leg, spreading her open, easing out before snapping his hips back against hers.

Despite the infinite times they engaged in this game, it was always her first gasp, the first twitch of her body when her lungs filled with air, that acted as gasoline poured on the raging fire within him. She took him so well, the perfect fit, her silken walls clenching rhythmically around his shaft as he watched her return to him.

A restrained mewling sound bubbled up from her throat, a kaleidoscope of fear and shame crashing over her like waves against a rocky shore, and he fucked her right through it. He reveled in her sweet torture, this innocent creature whose curse is to spend eternity by his side. Darkness Himself chose her as a gift for his Son, a prize for bringing about the apocalypse; an angel plucked from Eden, a crowning jewel for the Antichrist, a toy to kneel at his feet as he sits upon his throne.

Tricked by the great deceiver into abandoning paradise, her only crime is loving Michael despite it all. She clings to him now in utter humiliation as he literally pounds her into the ground, yearning for the boy who once gave his love freely while begging for more from the devil he has become.

To him she is worth the price he paid, each and every sinful act he committed in the name of his Father. For as long as he presides in Hell she will be at his side, granting him his endless heart’s desires. She is his temporary reprieve from the burden of the crown that weighs so heavily on his head. Slick with sweat and stained by the blackened earth beneath them, he ruts against her like the beast he is, but the longer he loses himself in her the stronger the urge is to relinquish everything his Father has given him.

Before she came there was only darkness, but she brought with her light. She is eternal temptation, a the thorn in his side, an itch he can never alleviate. Between her thighs and within her heart lay the promise of an absolution he forsook so long ago. And he hates her for it. He takes pleasure in torturing and demeaning her because of it. He praises his Father’s name for every tear that falls from her pitiful eyes as he punishes her for no other reason than her existence.

His name falls from her lips in a mantra, her nails dig into his shoulders as he repeatedly slams into her, wailing when he gives her a particularly brutal thrust. He stays there, buried as deep as he can, his swollen head pressed against her cervix and he grinds his hips against hers. She shutters under the weight of another orgasm and he buries his face in the hollow of her neck, licking a stripe along her jugular. He bites down hard, tasting copper as he breaks her delicate skin open. He is flooded with the desire to devour her flesh, crush her bones and bathe in her blood.

Snaking a hand between them he finds her swollen clit, rubbing in tight circles as he urges her to cum again. ‘One more time, my pet,' he hums, applying slightly more pressure. 'That’s it, my precious, cum for me.’

And she does, her body going taunt only moments before his hips falter and go still, groaning and cursing as the hard knot in the pit of his loins shatters and waves of ecstasy flood his veins. He pulses white hot ribbons of his seed, coating her quivering walls, before collapsing atop her.

Peace settles between them as they come down from their high, her delicate fingers run through his hair and he allows her this, if briefly. His mind is elsewhere though, no longer focused on her declarations of devotion, but on what had transpired only a few hours earlier.

She had been sitting on the stone floor in the corner of his room, curled in upon herself as she fumbled with the one article of clothing he permitted her to have. A floor-length gown that had at one time been quite beautiful, with edges embellished in delicate lace and fashioned out of pure white hand-spun silk. A garment worthy of a queen.

She was struggling to pull it over her head, anxious to hide her nakedness from his eyes. Candlelight strained to illuminate the shadows crowding around her as she worked to unravel the tattered fabric, but the bruises that decorated her porcelain skin were still visible. They varied in shades and colors corresponding with how far along they were in the healing process. The hours they had just spent together had taken a toll on her, her face still puffy from sobbing as he had tormented her without mercy.

Finally satisfied, he had returned her to her small mattress in the corner of his room, but paused in the process of securing her bonds to snatch the frayed garment from her. A sadistic smile spread across his face when she flinched at his sudden movement. He rubbed the cloth between his fingers, lifting it to his nose and inhaling deeply for effect. Her face turned away in shame and she tried to brace herself for the hurtful words that were sure to follow. His perfect lips were capable of the most vicious assault against her, spoken in a tone as smooth as honey and sharp as a razor’s edge.

‘Well, well, my precious,’ he taunted her with his favorite endearment. It landed like a slap across her face. ‘Even now you seem incapable of comprehending how much of a little slut you are. Just look at you, desperate to cover yourself with this filthy rag. I’ve no idea why you pretend modesty now, when not five minutes ago you were choking on my cock, slurping and moaning on your knees while fucking yourself on those little fingers of yours. Did you enjoy the taste of my cum sliding down the back of your throat, or were you too busy chasing your own pleasure to pay me proper attention?’

He griped her chin between thumb and index finger, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. ‘Hmm? Anything to say about that?’

His inquiry lead to a sputtering of unintelligible sounds as his hold on her face tightened. ‘Perhaps another lesson can be taught today,’ he stated matter-of-factly before releasing her, taking pleasure in her wide-eyed horror as he ripped her only piece of clothing in two.

‘Ah, yes, that’s much better,’ he mocked as she choked back a sob. ‘This is what happens when bad girls forget their manners. I allowed you to touch yourself, but as always you take whatever act of leniency I grant you too far. You have forgotten yet again that your purpose here is for _my_ pleasure, not your own.’ 

He watched as she collected the remnants of cloth, clutching them to her chest as he rose to his full height, towering over her. ‘Now, my dear, what have you to say for yourself?’

‘I… I’m s-sorry for disrespecting you,’ she whimpered.

‘And what have you learned today?’ 

Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as she spoke the words he wanted to hear. ‘I have learned that I am a slut. A filthy little slut.’

‘That’s right. And whose slut are you?’

‘Yours, Master. I am your slut.’

‘That is right. You are a slut. My slut. You belong to me.’

The snap of his fingers signaled her to take to her knees and she scrambled into position. Her head hung low, locks of tangled hair obscuring his view of her face as she leaned forward to kiss first his right foot, then his left, obediently, as she had been trained to do.

‘Very well then. You are forgiven.’

For the first time that day his voice was gentle and she sighed as she settled back on her haunches. He reached out with one hand to push errant stands of hair away from her face, tucking a few behind her ear and she took the opportunity to lean into his touch, however momentary.

‘It seems today was not a total waste, now was it?’

‘No, Master, I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll do better from now on, I promise,’ she says, nuzzling into his caress, her soft doe-eyes as inviting as ever.

He quickly realized that he had once again been tempted to kindness and pulled his hand back as though she had burned him. His next words were firm, his tone commanding.

‘Rest now. I’ve work to attend to.’

He turned on his heal, determined not to grant her a moment more of his time. Across the room reams of folders awaited him, each one corresponding to an individual soul. The newly dead were temporarily taking up space in Purgatory, where his demons roamed freely, inflicting torment at will. All were due their final judgement by his decree, after which time their true suffering would begin.

He eased into his seat, eyes scanning the first folder, but before making it halfway down the page the faint sounds from across the room raked across his nerves like broken glass. She was settled against her small pillow, murmuring to herself in her sleep, her breathing already deep and steady.

He did not have to look to know she was curled on her side, or seek out her thoughts to know she was dreaming of him. She was lost in her memories of a time and place so very different from the one they occupied; a schism in time, one where he had not embraced the path laid out by his Father, a place of pure light far from the misery they endured in Hell.

They could go there, together, if only he were to wish it so.

Minutes had ticked by as they lay together amidst the smoke and flames while his thoughts wandered, but the spell was now broken. He extricates himself from her arms and stands, looking down at the mess he has made of both her and himself. His cum leaks out from between her legs and she gazes up at him with the same expression she always does after he defiles her, as if she is only now seeing him for the first time. She is in awe of his fearsome magnificence and filled with the desire to please him in any way, if only he might show her a sliver of compassion.

‘Disgusting,’ he breaths.

She blinks, and their connection is severed. He leaves her there in the dirt and makes his way back to the tower. They both know she will follow soon enough. After all, she belongs at his side, and there is nowhere else she would rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comments as it may save my life. And thank you for reading.


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